


Your Ghost

by astraplain



Series: Kurtoberfest [6]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 21:03:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8224726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astraplain/pseuds/astraplain
Summary: Inspired by the song “Your Ghost” by Kristin Hersh





	

The lock sticks and for one breathless moment Kurt is sure his plan will fail, but the key turns and before he can reconsider he’s inside.

Stripped of all its furnishings, Adam’s old apartment doesn’t look much larger. It’s comforting in a way, and it gives Kurt the courage to proceed.

There are no overhead lights and the lamps are gone along with the squashy sofa and large, impractical chair so Kurt navigates by streetlight . There’s no rogue’s gallery of photos lining the short hallway. No bright yellow rubber duck in the bathroom. And the bedroom… 

The emptiness finally makes itself felt. Not because it seems bigger but because it’s cold. When Adam lived here it was never cold. 

Kurt shivers. Wrapping his arms around himself for comfort as well as warmth, he walks the perimeter of the room, reading the marks in the carpet like a map. There was the nightstand. The bed. Adam’s perpetual pile of dirty laundry was in that corner. He spilled his tea here when Adam…

Kurt breathes in sharply and looks up, eyes searching and ears alert. It smells like someone’s baking cookies.

He can feel his own heart beating rapidly as he forces himself to continue. The apartment could be rented tomorrow or the locks changed. He just needs to see…

A flash of gold lures him to the open closet and Kurt steps inside reaching blindly for that space in the corner where he thinks he saw…

His fingers brush something warm and smooth and Kurt glances over his shoulder before taking the tiny flashlight from his pocket. 

There’s a small crack in the wall and a tiny hollow where the plaster flaked away. The smallest bit of color draws him closer and he studies it. The heaviness of recognition makes him hold his breath as he uses the small multi-tool on his keyring to free his prize.

He doesn’t need the light but he uses it anyway, just to confirm that the sun charm in his palm is the one Adam once wore on the chain around his neck. The engraving on the back is new and Kurt brings it closer to read: K- #8 -A

He closes his fingers around the charm and breathes, his mind working furiously to puzzle out the message Adam left behind.

With a snap Kurt turns off the small flashlight. He feels the emptiness pressing in and knows there’s nothing else here for him. Adam has gone back to England. It’s time for Kurt to let go.

The cab ride back to Bushwick is an extravagance, but Kurt needs the relative solitude. The charm is tucked into a pocket and remains there until Kurt is home with the door locked. Once more he’s thankful that his increased Vogue.com paycheck gives him the luxury of living alone.

Without knowing why he delays looking at the charm until he changes into his night clothes. Sitting cross-legged on the bed with a soothing cup of herbal tea, he finally retrieves the tiny sun.

What could #8 mean? He runs through every possibility - a date? a song? Something to do with the Apples? None of it makes sense. 

While he thinks, his nimble fingers braid a length of silk cord, and thread it through the charm’s loop, holding it up to study the work. 

Adam, he breathes as he reaches back to fasten the cord around his neck. For the briefest moment he feels a brush of warmth across the back of the neck. He lets his hands fall to his lap but the charm remains, resting securely against his chest.

Kurt’s phone vibrates, but there’s no incoming call. He picks it up, realization dawning, and checks his contacts. Number eight is accompanied by a picture of Adam that Kurt doesn’t remember taking. 

The phone number is new but Kurt knows that if he dials it, Adam will answer, even though it’s the middle of the night on Adam’s side of the pond.

Tomorrow, Kurt vows, falling back onto his pillow and letting the warmth from the charm flow over him. When a ghost-touch brushes his cheek, he presses a kiss to his fingers and reaches up to where Adam would be sitting if he were here. Kurt’s rewarded with another blaze of warmth. 

He drifts off to sleep with the sound of someone softly humming, surrounded by the scent of freshly-baked cookies.

 

::end::


End file.
